Speak No Evil?
by Tacey
Summary: Tacey Snape is going into her fifth year at Hogwarts. She finds herself suddenly alone, devoid of all those she once called friends, crawling into the safety of her mind where no one can get to her, to harm her. But that's not even safe enough.
1. Welcome Back To Hogwarts

**A/N: This is based on the story Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. It takes place during the events of Harry Potter Goblet and Fire. As such, there are snippets of conversations from GOF. That belongs to JKR and I mean no harm by using it.**

Chapter One: Welcome Back To Hogwarts

_Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me._

-Chapter 4:Waking Up, New Moon, Stephanie Meyer

I'm standing in the torrential rain outside of King's Cross Station and getting soaked to the bone. I'm wearing a horrible pink skirt that can't be returned and that is slowly giving me a rash. My trunk is on one of those rolling cart things behind me and the owl my father got me over the summer is hooting glumly. It doesn't want to go inside either. People are staring at me as they pass under their umbrellas, thinking I'm a statue. You can do it, I tell myself. Just go in and sit down. I open the door and walk inside.

The clock on the wall reads 8:45. I have two hours and fifteen minutes before the train leaves. Only the muggles are here, going to who-knows-where. I sit down near the barrier that would take me to Platform 9 3/4 and watched the Men in Funny Suits run around with briefcases mutter, mutter, curse, curse. They're late.

At 9:05, a conductor passes by my seat for the fifth time. He is watching me out of the corner of his eye. There is no "Good morning." or "Are you lost, dear?" from him. This man doesn't bother with pleasantries. I may be a runaway in his mind. Who knows? Maybe I am.

But then why am I running towards my problems?

When he is gone, I get up and lean casually against the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. Before my eyes Platform Nine and Three-Quarters materializes. It doesn't look like it did the last time I was here. Nobody's here yet, except for the Cart Lady and Conductor Man. Conductor Man smiles at me as he passes by to inspect the carriages one last time.

"You're my first passenger of the day, kid," he says. "Pick any seat you want."

You are too kind, I want to tell him. Instead, I pull the hood of my grey sweatshirt up over my head and drag my trunk over to the first compartment I find. I push my trunk up and stow away the owl. Something falls out of my pocket. I can see my face reflected in the shiny blue and bronze badge. I bend down to pick it up, running my hand over the silver P embedded into it. I can't believe they did this to me. Money must have changed hands.

I want to curl up into a tiny ball and close my eyes, go to sleep, but I've got to find Cho. See if she is choosing to speak to me yet.

The train's first whistle makes me jump. It's time already? I look out the window. I can't see much from where I am, but I imagined what I might see: The older students finding their friends and exchanging stories about what happened over the summer. The newer students reassured by their parents that they would have a great time. I remember what it was like to be a first year. I had been to Hogwarts already, my father being the Potions Master. Maybe that's why the castle never had that magical feeling to me. My magic has disappeared.

Nobody would be interested in what I did over the summer. I spent most of it shut away in my room, eating greasy potato chips and watching old movies on a muggle television my father had gotten. I received no invitations to the Quidditch World Cup and rejected the ones offered by my father. I was just there. A Nobody.

I feel restless. I can't be in this compartment anymore. Standing in the tiny corridor, I'm in a herd of teenagers. Instincts tell predators to go for the weak or sick. A predator approaches. But I know this one.

"Tacey!" Benjamin Mellincamp calls. It's hard to hear over all the noise. "You're the other prefect?"

Prefect. Noun. A student who is given some authority over other pupils in matters of discipline in a private school. I looked it up when I got my annual Hogwarts Letter. Is also known as my own personal hell manifested. I show him my badge as way of explanation.

"Well, come on!" he says. "We're supposed to be in the prefects compartment."

Wait, there's a compartment just for prefects? I let Benjamin drag me through the crowd to the front on the train, where the prefect's compartment is located.

There are approximately twenty four prefects at Hogwarts. Two from each year from fifth year and up. That's six for each house. Multiply that by four, and you get the number of prefects. There is also a head boy and girl, to inform the new recruits of our duties as prefects. So, in total, there are twenty six kids to enforce the rules on the other two hundred and fifty four students in the school. Yippee. But only the new recruits and a few others are in this particular compartment.

Almost all of them glare at me as I walk in. I avoid their gazes as I sit down closest to the door. I would much rather be in my compartment than in here with them. Maybe I can give my prefect duties to someone else. I don't want to be a prefect.

THE FIRST TEN LIES THEY TELL YOU AS PREFECTS

1. You are prefects because your leadership potential.

2. The head boy and girl will always be here to help

3. You will have plenty of time for homework along with your prefect duties

4. People will respect your authority.

5. Your friends will not make fun of you.

6. The school dress code should be enforced

7. Only prefects can become head boy or girl.

8. Being a prefect is one of the greatest honors you can receive.

9. The rules still apply to prefects.

10. You will look back on these years and smile.

People are staring at me. And its not because of the badge pinned to my uniform. They laugh and point. Whispering behind their hands. I bite my lip and taste the blood. Darn it. I pass by open compartments and can hear pieces of their occupant's conversations

"Did you see Cedric out on the platform?" "He is so cute!" "You should totally ask him out Jen!" "Oh no. I couldn't..."

"I heard Victor Krum still goes to school." "Yeah, I heard he goes to Durmstrang..."

"Oh, Cho! I didn't see you there!"

I whip around. There she is. Cho Chang, my ex-best friend. Talking to a bunch of other kids. Cho sees me watching her and makes a face. "That's Tacey Snape," she whispers. She says something in an undertone that makes the others laugh. I swallow and close my eyes. I can see the last time I talked to Cho.

_"How did you get us in?" I ask. _

_Cho smiles conspiratorially. "That's my little secret. Now, come on. What should I wear?"_

_"Definitely the green jumper."_

_"But my mom got me that jumper!"_

_"It looks cute on you."_

_"But my mom got it!"_

_"Okay, wear that ugly pink one then," I tell her. "C'mon, the green matches your shoes great."_

_"Fine then," Cho agrees. "But if anybody asks, you got it for me."_

_"Deal."_

Tears are forming in my eyes, threatening to burst. Cho looks back at me. "I hate you," she mouths.

My throat tickles. This is Cho. She was the one there during all the teasing in our first year. This was the girl that invited me to stay over every summer. If there is anybody in the entire world I want to tell, it is Cho.

Cho forms an L with her right hand and laughs. I can't help it, the dam breaks and I take off for the bathroom.

In the bathroom, I sit down on the toilet and let the tears fall. I should have expected it. Cho would have remembered.

Deep breaths, I say. Do like they do in those old movies. Just take several deep breaths. There, there. It's okay. Cho's dealing with PMS. That's why she didn't talk to you.

Only I know this is a lie. She won't forgive me. But she doesn't know what really happened. I don't think I even know. I get up and wash my face in the sink. Maybe I should just stick my head outside the window and let the rain wash away the tears. I look at myself in the mirror. Purple-like bruises under the eyes from countless nights of no sleep. Lips that belong in a horror movie. I could probably play Dracula. All I need are some fangs. I hurry out of the bathroom...

... and run straight into a boy. I hit the floor. Hard.

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

I look up and find myself looking into a pair of grey eyes. I feel myself go red. What's the matter with me? I nod.

The boy seems amused for some reason. Hufflepuff, no doubt. They always find something funny in any situation. He extends a hand. "Do you need help?"

I grab his hand and he pulls me up.

"I'm Cedric," the boy tells me. "Cedric Diggory."

It one of the prefects from the compartment. One that didn't glare at me. He smiles at me. Say something idiot.

"Tacey Snape," I say after a minute.

"You're Professor Snape's daughter?"

I give up on talking and nod.

"That must be cool," Cedric says.

I shrug. Cedric seems to realize that it is pointless to talk to me, because he says goodbye and leaves. I fly back to the shelter of my compartment. People are sitting there, chatting up a storm.

Darn it.

-----

Off the train, the rain that has steadily grown worse during the train ride, now comes at us in full force. I run-head first into the first carriage I can find. The people inside are watching me. I hide my face under the veil that is my hair. I try to ignore the whispering.

Inside the castle, Peeves is throwing water balloons. Again. I inch my way across the hall and into the Great Hall. I feel the gazes of people and I stumble. Embarrassed, I make my way to the end of the Ravenclaw table.

Professor McGonagall enters with the new first years. I remember what it was like being one. A first year, I mean. I wish badly I can go back to being so blissfully ignorant. A clean slate. That would be perfect.

After the sorting, Professor Dumbledore stands up. I have always wondered how he keeps his long beard and hair so shiny. Mine looks like something that has been ran over several times.

"I have only two words for you," Professor Dumbledore says, smiling. What he has to be so damn cheerful about, I don't know. "Tuck in."

At once, the golden plates fills with food. I get my share before the vultures can devour it all. I gnaw at a chicken leg while others rip apart pork chops and steak. I wish I could go to the dormitory. I just want to get some rest.

At Hogwarts, we are divided into four groups called houses. There's Hufflepuff, for those that don't fit in anywhere else; Gryffindor, for the people that superheroes are modeled after; Ravenclaw, for the next mad scientists; and Slytherin, the ones most likely to desert the first chance they got. I'm in Ravenclaw. I am supposed to be this incredibly smart person. I am supposed to be at the top of my class. But no, I pass most of my classes with an Acceptable. On the intelligence scale, I am a four.

After everyone eats, Professor Dumbledore starts talking again. It's mostly about rules and regulations. I heard it from the head boy. I tune him out, dreaming of a nice warm shower. After walking in that storm, I really need to spend some time with my Suave shampoo and conditioner. I hope none of the others will be in there. Best to avoid confrontations.

"YOUR JOKING!"

I start. Did I miss something? Obviously.

Professor Dumbledore laughs. "No, Mr. Weasley, I am not joking. No for those who know what the Triwizard Tournament entails, allow your attention to wander freely as I explain to those that don't."

Although I don't know what the tournament was, I don't pay attention to Dumbledore. I look down the table, hoping to catch the eye of one of my old friends. But there really is no point looking for them. Joan has started to hang out with the Ravenclaws that are really serious about their grades. They're the Super Nerds. Trina has joined the band and choir headed by Professor Flitwick. I see her trying to play the drums with forks and one of the golden plates. And Cho… well, Cho does what Cho does. I spot Cho talking to Marietta Edgecomb. This surprises me. Cho always hated Marietta, called her a cow. I can't breath. It's like my lungs have shriveled up. I try to pay attention to Dumbledore.

"-those that can enter their names must be of age, that is to say, seventeen or older. The Ministry feels that this is necessary due to the complexity of the tasks. Those below sixth and seventh year simply won't be able to handle it."

I bet. I look around again and see that many are not happy by Dumbledore's remarks. Probably those with big egos.

"And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bed time! Chop chop!"

I follow the stream of people exiting the Great Hall. Ravenclaw Tower is situated at the other end of the school, opposite Gryffindor Tower. I trudge silently up to my dorm behind Bushy Hair and Company and their friends. They are talking about the tournament.

I finally reach the dormitory. Before anyone can say anything to me, I grab my toiletry bag and high tail it to the showers. Everybody is headed to bed. I am assured quiet.

I stand under the showerhead, allowing the icy cold water out of the hot faucet to drown out my tears.

After a few minutes, I turn off the water and wrap myself in a towel. I reach for my bag, but can't find it. I rip back the curtain. A note is where my bag should be. The food I ate earlier now wants to come back. I steady myself against the wall. Even without my glasses, I can read the black writing.

SQUEALER.


	2. Our Teachers are Simply the Best

**A/N: Okay, a few people are going to get mad at me for making Snape seem OOC, but I think that if he had a daughter, he would be somewhat decent to her. I don't own the **_**Harry Potter **_**series by JK Rowling or **_**Speak**_** by Laurie Halse Anderson. I only own Tacey and other original characters.**

Chapter Two: Our Teachers are Simply Wonderful...

Not only did they steal my toiletry bag, but they also hid my trunk as well. They must really hate me. I don't have to worry about it much until the morning, when I have to get dressed for the first day of classes. I pretend that I'm still asleep when the girls in my dorm go down for breakfast. I can't find my things anywhere in the room. I open the door and yell down the stairs if anybody has seen my trunk. There's a bit of scattered laughter and somebody yells back to tell me that its out on the balcony. I swear angrily.

Breakfast is over by the time I come down to the Great Hall. I had waited until I was sure everybody was out of the common room before making a mad dash to the balcony. I get dressed underneath my blanket that I brought with me. Maybe I'll give the whole common room detention for this. I can do it now.

My first class is Charms. I try to pay attention as Flitwick speaks, but find myself doodling on my piece of parchment. I draw a girl that is falling falling falling. Ploosh! Into the inky depth of the ocean, arms flailing, desperately scrambling for the air she needs but can't reach it..

"Miss Snape!"

I jump. Flitwick and the entire class is staring at me. A lot of them are laughing, but stop when they see that Flitwick isn't laughing. What's the deal? I thought Flitwick was supposed to be this humorous little part-human part-goblin. He scurries over to my desk and snatches up my drawing. "I would think, Miss Snape," he says, "that you of all people, would want to pay attention in this class."

This is, unfortunately, very true. Thanks to my father being the Potions Master (HA!), my progress in my studies are easily reported to him. They've never had to actually send me to him, but there's always the threat.

I don't say anything to Flitwick. I learned early on that people don't care about what you have to say. All that stuff about your feelings is a bunch of crap. All people want you to do is to shut your trap and let them talk. That's what I let Flitwick do now. For such a small guy, he has a set of lungs. When his face has returned to its normal color, he goes on with his lecture.

The same thing happens in Transfigurations. McGonagall almost has a stroke when I ask to go to the restroom. I don't really have to go. I am just really bored. She doesn't want to let me go ( she's in the middle of the importance of OWLs. yawn.), but I tell her that Mother Nature has paid me an early visit. She lets me go reluctantly.

I sit in a stall two floors from the Transfigurations classroom. If I keep it up, my teachers will rip their hair out of their heads. Well, except for Professor Binns, who can't even he did care about me, being a ghost and all. I amuse myself for several minutes by thinking of Binns bald. And the other teachers, for that matter. McGonagall would look ten times better, I bet. I arrive back in class one minute to the bell. McGonagall is not happy.

Lunch goes badly, of course. And it isn't even because this weird girl with a name like the moon sits with me. I decide to call her Kinkajou. She has huge eyes- but great hair that I'll never have. The reason lunch is horrible is because I feel like it is the first day of my first year again. I see a few friends- or people I though were my friends- but they all look away. Think fast T.C. I could sit by Kinkajou. Or in the bathroom again. Or outside. Or, even worse, in the kitchens with the house elves (I have a strong house-elf phobia). Or maybe I can not eat at all. Walk right out the door.

Dang it! I see my father sitting next to Dumbledore. If I leave, he'd notice and I'd have to listen to him after class. I sit across from Kinkajou, who is engrossed in the latest from The Quibbler. The cover sports the images of Dumbledore and two people I don't recognize under the headline TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT: INTERNATIONAL UNITY OR ELABORATE SCAM?

It is as I am taking a bite from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I made, that I see something out of the corner of my eye. Too late- a wad of mashed potatoes and peas hit me in the side of the head with a loud SPAT! The Great Hall, which has been buzzing with conversation, falls silent. All eyes are on me. Then, everybody bursts out laughing. Father had just left moments before to take care of his lesson, so he doesn't know what happens next. Which is the students, in unison, going "Oink, oink, oink!" and pushing their noses to look like a pig's.

I take off to the Entrance Hall and nearly hit the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody. I have his class tomorrow.

"Slow down lass, what's the hurry?"

I keep my mouth shut. Moody peers at me with both of his eyes, the normal and the weird one. "What's your name, lass?"

Should I incriminate myself? "Tacey Snape."

"Snape? Snape you said?" he asks. "Potion teacher's daughter?"

I nod. People used to ask me this all the time when I first came here. I didn't make many friends at first because they thought that I would rat them out to my father. Moody surprises me by giving me an ugly look.

"Well, hurry up and get out of my way, or it's detention for you!" he growled. I scamper up the stair until I back in the bathroom I was in before.

My fingers fumble through my hair as I try to get out the food. Bits of peas and mashed potatoes are still stuck, though. I look in the mirror. I'm pathetic. Really I am. If you looked loser up in the dictionary, you'd see my picture next to it. I wash my face, annoyed that it means that I'll have to wash my hair again. My face in the mirror triggers something in my memory.

i Daddy's in front of me, trying to get me to talk. I can't. My lips are rubber. I'm in his bathroom, heaving into the toilet. Darkness...

I'm walking through a sea of people. They're all running around, like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Somebody squealed! Cho's face- so angry- in my. Somebody slaps me. /i 

The tears smear down my face. I now looked like a raccoon. I turn the hot faucet all the way up and wipe away the smears.

"Tacey?"

It's Cedric. He has followed me to check and see if I'm okay. I am touched by his concern. I turn down the water and tell him that I'm fine. It comes out in a croak. Now I'm a frog. Great.

I must be going insane.

-----

Potions follows lunch like day follows night. I arrive a minute before the bell rings and there is only seat left. Next to Cho Chang, my ex-best friend. Small titters erupt across the class as I sit next to Cho. They are quickly squashed by Daddy- er, I mean, Professor Snape. Someone behind me pulls my hair. I clench and unclench my jaw, resisting the urge to throttle each and everyone of them to make them understand. Instead, I just sit there like an idiot.

After Professor Snape lectures, he sets us to the task of making this potion that I can't pronounce. I can hear the others complain as they cut their ingredients.

Cho lights the fire under our cauldron and I am to dice the ingredients. I stare at the spider I am supposed to cut. I wonder if it was related to the spider that frightened Miss Muffet. I stand over it with my knife. The room's volume level has suddenly lowered to a quiet buzz by the blood pounding in my ears. The spider doesn't say a word. That's because it is already dead. A scream starts in my throat. I can feel the cut, smelled the mold, cold stone floors.

I don't remember passing out. I hear on the grape vine later that I hit my head on the table on the way down. They had to take me up to the hospital wing to clean up the gash on my forehead. Madame Pomfrey peers into my eyes. I wonder if she can see beyond them, at the secrets hidden. If she can, will she tell my dad? Ship me off to St. Mungo's? Do I care? All I want to do is sleep. The point of not talking about it, at repressing the memory, is to make it disappear. Maybe it will if I get someone to cut it out. Go to one of those nutters in muggle hospitals. What are they called? Doctors?

Thanks to my being in the hospital wing, I miss dinner. The bite of my sandwich for lunch has long since disappeared. My stomach gives a moan of protest. I consider going to the kitchens, despite my house elf phobia, but squash the idea. I don't feel like eating anything. A first year, Hufflepuff by the looks of it, approaches me. She keeps fidgeting with her tie. I can see her friends laughing behind her. She must have gotten the short straw.

"P-professor Snape wants to see you in his office," she stutters. Then she runs off, like I was the plague. Great. Even the first years hate me.

I walk to my father's office, which is right next to his classroom. His office is really cool too. It has weird stuff floating in jars and books that he will not let me read under any circumstances. This makes me think that they are his personal diaries. The only sign he has of being a normal human being is a picture of me getting my acceptance letter to Hogwarts. I need him to get rid of that.

Daddy is already sitting at his desk. When I enter the room, he looks up from whatever he is looking at on his desk. I'm kind of glad I inherited my looks from my mother. My life would be so much worse if I had his long nose.

"Tacey," he says. "Please, sit. I've heard you've had quite a day."

I bet. My cuticles look like mangled pulps. I pick at one until a bubble of blood oozes out. Pop. A trickle of blood down my thumb. If I were a vampire, it wouldn't sting as it did.

"Tacey," my father says again. "I'm worried about you. Ever since that night, you haven't been the same since... since that night. I-"

My head snaps up. Something is clawing at me from the pit of my stomach. "Don't talk about that," I say in this deadly voice. "Don't you ever talk about that night ever again, you hear? NEVER AGAIN!"

"Tacey..." Daddy looks unhappy. "Please, let's talk about this..."

"No." I am tired of talking. He has tried to get me to talk all summer. "I don't want to talk about it. Leave me the heck alone."

I grab my book bag and storm out of the room. I pass the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher on my way onto the main floor. He is holding a blond boy by the ear. I find out a minute later what has happened: the blonde boy had tried to jinx Harry Potter and got caught. People are laughing about it in the Entrance Hall.

And they think I'm the freak.

I know that I should start my homework when I get to the common room, but my bed is sending out serious sleep rays. I can't help myself. The creepy house elves know how to make a girl feel comfortable. I snuggle underneath my comforter. I shut the curtains to my bed to block out the world around me.

**A/N: Please Review. I know you want to.**


	3. Sanctuary Found

Chapter Three: Sanctuary Found

It is the second week of October. I have officially made it six weeks without going full-on Silvia plath. For some reason, Kinkajou continues to sit with me. She tries to get me to talk some. I ignore her as I eat my eggs and sausage. Most of the time, I watch the scary movies replay on the back of my eyelids. Makes me look even weirder. So, she keeps up a running commentary about the latest from "The Quibbler". Turns out, her father's the editor. Huh. Go figure.

With the owl post, I get a note from my father. He wants to know if I need anything. Other than the threats of going to his office for academic reasons, this is how we usually communicate. I write asking for some money or permission to go to the Restricted Section of the library (they have some really cool books there. I've checked.) He writes to tell me of upcoming due dates that I may have forgotten or of tests that he may give, so I may study. Really, what else needs to be said? I write and tell him no, that this close to the beginning of the school year has not allowed me to waste my ink or parchment on the trivial pursuits of the teachers. I'll pay for my smart mouth later, but I don't really care.

Transfigurations is boring, as usual. McGonagall is still stressing the importance of the O.W.L.s we take at the end of this year. Yawn. I think whoever thought of those stupid tests should be hung by their ankles using the shackles Filch keeps in his office. The ones he threatens us with every time we try to catch Mrs. Norris. Some wise guy asks what would happen if we failed the test. You can tell this question upsets McGonagall. Her nostrils flare out like tiny umbrellas and her mouth sinks into nonexistence. When she speaks, it's in a forced calm. She says that we'd have to discuss that with our head of house. I tune her out after that and look out the window.

My HOH is Flitwick. I think if I failed my O.W.L.s, Flitwick would blow a gasket. Nobody has failed the O.W.L.s since, like, when dinosaurs walked the earth. I'd receive the whole "youcandomuchbetterthanthisiknowyoucanandwhyareyounotlivinguptoyourpotential" speech. How does he even know what my potential is? Maybe I'm destined to be a reject. I long to tell him this, but he's already ticked off after I didn't turn my homework in for the billionth time (He made threats of talking to Snape. Not good.)

Dad must have felt sorry for me after the fainting incident, because I now sit next to Benjamin Mellincamp, the other Ravenclaw prefect. Everybody loves Ben. Even Filch. He shows Potential. Future Minister of Magic. Best to be nice to him now, rather than declared a suck up later. Now that I think about it, he could be cute, if he stopped gelling his hair and took off the glasses. I saw a fourth year doodling little hearts around her _Mrs. Benjamin Mellincamp_'s she had scrawled all over a piece of parchment. Ack.

We've been getting along great so far. On the first day as partners, he yelled at me for a full ten minutes because I got my blood over the potion ingredients I was supposed to be cutting up. Jerk. It wasn't my fault though. The knife just slipped. Right into my finger.

-----

Professor Mad-Eye Moody remembers me quite well. At the beginning of our first DADA lesson, he stops me as I walk in.

"Don't think I've forgot you, Snape. Front and center. Right in front of my desk."

Oh joy. I think he's had one to many jinxes to the head, if you know what I mean.

For the past four years that I've been here, there has not been one teacher that took the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and stayed for more than one year. They always that somebody will stay longer, but they never do. Some think the job is curse. It's a shame really. I liked the last one.

Right after DADA is Muggle Studies, which is a complete joke. I only took the class because Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy didn't sound appealing and Cho thought it would be fun. She avoids my gaze as I walk in. Now I just want to disappear. Sink right into the floor. I take a seat on the back row with the rest of the waste cases. Ten minutes after the bell rings, a man hurries into the room. He looks more like a stilt walker than a professor. He sets down a cup of what smells like coffee and smiles at the class.

"Hello everybody! David Donovan's the name and I'm your new Muggle Studies professor."

What happened to Professor McAmis?

He continues to beam at the class before realizing that we aren't looking as thrilled as he is. " Aw, come one! Don't give me that look! Professor McAmis had something come up and she couldn't continue teaching. But don't worry, I'm more than capable of teaching you! You're in safe hands"

I could argue to that point.

Professor Donovan waved his wand at the board and words appear. FINDING YOURSELF IN LITERATURE. I'm pretty sure he didn't misspell it. A cartoon bubble appears over the heads of the entire class: "Is he serious?"

"This term we will be studying about the various forms of muggle literature," he tells us. "You will study it, breathe it, drink it, and live it. Besides studying the works of true literary geniuses, you will write a story. Poetry or prose, your choice. I'll give you the subject out of this." He holds up a top hat. I wonder if he ever pulled a rabbit out of it. " An object. By the end of the year, I want you to be able to have what you have written speak to everybody who reads it."

Some students groan. That's all? It sounds too good to be true to me. He starts at my desk. I reach in the hat, feeling the lining of silk. There appears to be little figurines in the hat. I pull out mine. A tree. A tree? I try to grab something else, but Professor Donovan waggles a finger at me. "You've just chosen your destiny."

"I already know a poem about a tree."

Professor Donovan goes, "Oh really? Um. Well, do you mind telling it me? Just stand up and recite it. Don't worry. I'm not going to grade you or anything."

I stand to my feet. I hear somebody making noises like a pig. "No commentary in my class please," Professor Donovan says. I start.

"I am a tree

See my branches oh so wide

Come and take a seat under the evergreen

Under my shade you can hide."

The class laughs as I sit down. Professor Donovan is looking at me. It makes me nervous. "That's a good start," he tells me. "Now let's see how that turns out at the end of the year."

-----

Giordano, my Ancient Runes teacher, is demanding my assignments that I haven't been turning in. I pretend that I can't see her as I weave in between a large group of people reading something on the message board. (Wonder what that's about. Must remember to check that out later.)

I take off up the marble staircase, trying to put as much distance between me Giordano. I can hear the click-clack of her heels on the stone floor. I run to the seventh floor. I don't care if I have to hide in a broom closet. I just want to hide. On my fifth trip around, I notice a door that wasn't there before. I hear her footsteps coming up the stairs. I fling open the door and run inside. I hold the knob, but she doesn't open it. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn around.

The room had obviously not been used in a long time. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling and dust scattered whenever I move. But it is the best room I have ever seen. An old teacher's desk is holding up a bunch of old books that look like they were made in prehistoric times. The chair doesn't look like it would poke me to much. A sink is in the corner. I can't turn the handles. Probably rusted over.

It's perfect.

-----

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELAGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND

DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK

ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL

END HALF AN HOUR EARLY.

STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS

TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT

OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE

THE WELCOMING FEAST.

Great. Just what this school needs. More people to gossip about. I can practically hear the fantasies in the minds of the students. They're like little kids in a candy shop. Maybe a girl from Beauxbatons will want to date Terri. Or... maybe the boys from Durmstrang will be cute.

The only other person that doesn't seem to think that people coming from across the continent to Hogwarts is the greatest thing since sliced bread, besides me, is Kinkajou. Whenever she hears people talking about the Tournament, she rolls her eyes. I wonder why.

The only good thing about the tournament that I can see is that it will allow me time to finish cleaning out my secret room in peace. It's been coming along great. I've managed to sweep out most of the dust and cobwebs. I found a couple of scented candles stuck in the bottom of my trunk and decided that they would get out the smell of dead rodent. It doesn't seem to be working though.

The corridors are empty. My boots against the floor echo throughout the corridor on every alternative step. I look at my watch. Transfigurations has already started. McGonagall will kill me for being late. Yippee. I consider go and see if Flitwick would give me a late pass, but I forgot to go to his class this morning. I continue past the first floor and go into the Entrance Hall.

Outside, the weather is simply beautiful. Great. A soft breeze knocks a couple of leaves off a nearby tree. I pull my cloak around me and take off across the lawn. Maybe I can get the giant squid to swallow me whole. Nah. I'd be too bitter. On the edge of the Forbidden Forest I can blend in and not be seen by the Care of Magical Creatures class. I crush a pansy under my foot.

The fourth years appear to be having fun. They're sticking stuff in these huge crates and jump back when something POPS! It's very entertaining. I watch them until the bell rings and try to blend in with them as we march up the lawn and into the Entrance Hall. I can smell the food in the Great Hall. Lunch has started. I inhale the scent slowly,

"Hello," a voice whispers in my ear.

I suddenly feel as if somebody has put a pillow over my face. I gasp for breath. I'm frozen to the spot as if somebody just put the full-body bind on me. People are chatting away, not noticing that I'm starting to hyperventilate. They walk towards the doors of the Great Hall. Don't go, please don't go.

IT is in the Entrance Hall. IT is with its latest girlfriend. IT smiles like the cat that swallowed the canary and waves. IT makes me want to throw up.

I take off up the marble staircase, trying to put as much distance between me and IT. All the way to my secret hiding place. I slam the door shut and collapse onto the floor, hugging my sides. It's only after I wake up that I realize that I passed out. And what's worse, I missed Potions.

My father's going to kill me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: No One Misses a Mime**

"I'm going for it."

That's Cedric on Thursday. The day before the "delegations" arrive. As prefects, we are supposed to be helping the staff set up the decorations. I'm helping Cedric put up the house banners. Otherwise I'd have to work with Perfect Prefect Benjamin. Ew. There are four of them --banners, I mean-- one for each house. Red with a gold lion for Gryffindor. Rawr. Blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw. Yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff. Green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Another banner is put up behind the teachers table with the school crest on it.

"For what?" I ask, adjusting the tassels on one of the banners.

"Hogwarts Champion," Cedric says. "I'm going to enter the tournament."

Wow. I've heard along the line of gossip that he was talking about entering, but I didn't think it was true. Since when do people willingly enter a tournament where people have died? Then again, the thousand galleons in prize money must be a great compensation for losing an arm or something equally disgusting. And it will look good on his résumé.

Everything would look great on Cedric's résumé. If he has one.

"Cho thinks it's great that I'm entering," Cedric continues. "She says that she hopes I get it."

I freeze. Cho? As in Cho Chang? Are they dating? Words want to tumble out of my mouth. I try to compose myself. "Hmm," is all I say.

"You know Cho, right?" he asks. "She in your year I think."

My next words are strained. "I've met her a time or two."

"She's really nice."

I shrug. "I guess."

Cedric falls into a thoughtful silence. Probably thinking about Cho. God, thinking about Cho makes me mad. What does he see in her? She won't even talk to me, her best friend for over four years. Who would want to date that? But Cedric doesn't know about Cho or what happened. Something at the pit of my stomach claws at my insides.

Oh shut up.

-----

Trina is in the bathroom when I walk in. No, scratch that. _Kat _is in the bathroom when I walk in. She refuses to go by Trina anymore. That is so last year. She believes that going by Kat will make her seem more mature. I think it makes her seem even dumber. What was it that we were reading in Muggle Studies? Romeo and Juliet. _A rose by any other name will smell as sweet_. Maybe Trina/Kat should listen more instead of drawing all over her sneakers. Her brain cells may begin to function again.

I hold my contacts up as a way of explanation. She grunts something inaudible and goes back to applying her lip gloss. I'd hate to be near her when it was sunny outside. She'd probably blind me. I consider bolting back down the hall, but McGonagall is walking down the corridor and I forgot to turn in my essay on The Disadvantages of Inanimate vs. Animate spells. Or attend her class. I'll put up with the Hairy Eyeball.

After a minute, I can't stand it. _You should say something_, a voice inside of my head tells me. _She was one of your friends last year._ That's just the point, I think. _Was_ my friend. _ Just say something. You'll regret later that you didn't say something._ I poke myself in the eye with my contact.

"Ouch," I say. Cool as an iceberg, Tacey. Good going.

Kat snickers. She smacks her lips together, admiring herself from all angles. I try again.

"How was your summer?" I ask.

She jerks her shoulders in a non-committal sort of way. I'm just a fly to her. A small insignificant fly. She waves hand, as if attempting to swat me away. "Ciao."

I've been dropped like the last Weird Sister's single. I rub my eye and put my contacts in. I think I'll wear my glasses from now on. I'm getting tired of this.

I seriously need a friend. Not a serious friend. One that I can pretend to like. I could pull it off. I'm a good actor. If I wanted to drop out, I could be a mime. I'm quiet like one. I can pretend I'm in a box. My name could be up in lights. TACEY SNAPE: THE FREAK AMONG FREAKS. I would sell out places everywhere I go. People would try to get me to talk. But I'll just give them a razzle dazzle smile and they'd leave me alone. And wouldn't care one bit. Because mimes are supposed to be silent.

All this planning is making me sleepy. When I leave the bathroom, I go to my hole-in-the-wall and take a nap during lunch. Nobody will miss me. Nobody ever misses a mime.

-----

Marietta Edgecomb corners me after Potions, right off the side of the Entrance Hall. She wants to know what the hell I was doing with Cedric this morning. I try to explain, but the words get stuck somewhere along the way. She laughs and says that he's seeing Cho and that he wouldn't want to date a freak like me. I'm a nobody and who would want to date someone that everybody hates?

I bite my lip even harder. A small trickle of blood seeps down my chin. I wipe it away, hoping that Marietta doesn't see. She does. She looks at me disgustedly.

"You really are a freak, you know that?" she says. "Well, nobody likes you. Not even Cedric. He only puts up with you because of Snape. We all do. You're pathetic and if you had any common sense, you'd go off somewhere and die."

Something inside of me snaps. I don't know what it is. Maybe it was the fact that I knew that what she was saying was true. They all do hate me. If my father wasn't feared and hated by most of the school's population, I would have probably dropped out by now.

Anyway, I snap and lunge at Marietta and she shrieks. I try to punch at every part of her that I can reach. Punch punch bite bite pull pull. People hear the commotion and find me pulling her hair. A teacher has to break us up. It's Moody. I know I'm in trouble now, but I don't care. I've left my mark on Marietta. Her nose is bleeding. Probably broken. Not so pretty now, is she? I smile and wipe my mouth.

She is furious. "You mitch!" she screams at me. "I'll get you mack for dis! You mroke my effing nose!" I can still hear her shrieks as Moody drags me up the marble staircase. Both of his eyes are bulging out of their sockets. He's really ticked off. He gets me to his office and yells at me for several minutes while I study the ceiling.

"I've been alive for along time and I know when someone is a troublemaker," he tells me. "It's in the eyes." He points to his good eye, the brown one. "I've given you all the chances that I'm going to. Fifty points from Ravenclaw and a week's detention. My choice. And be lucky it isn't more!"

-----

People glare at me all through the day on Friday. Marietta is obviously very popular. As I'm walking to Muggle Studies, somebody pulls my stuff out of my hands and splits my bag. I try not to think about it too much. It has to blow over soon. Doesn't it?

Muggle Studies is unbearable. You would think that I wouldn't get as many evil looks from the back of the room, but somehow they manage. It's a good thing that looks can't kill. I'd be pushing up daisies at the moment. We have moved on from Romeo and Juliet to Julius Cesar. Professor Donovan is making us each of us read it out loud. It's really dull until we get to the part where he dies. William Shakespeare has a lot of death in his stories. You would think that people would stop coming to see his plays, but they haven't. Dramatized death is very cool. We don't get through the whole story, though. We have about five pages left. We have to stop because the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are to arrive soon. Students are supposed to drop their stuff off in their dormitories and meet in the Entrance Hall. I want to go to my closet and take a nap but I line up with the other fifth years.

It's very cold outside. I can almost see my breath. I pretend to blow cigarette smoke at people. Those who see me try to move away. Don't want to catch my stupid. I hope the delegations hurry up. I'm getting hungry.

"Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons has arrived," Dumbledore says from behind us.

I don't see anything. People are staring around, trying to see them. Maybe they're invisible. I need to ask them how they do that. It would come in handy.

"There!" Several people point at a dot looming in the distance. Others try to guess what it could be. Brooms, dragon, a flying house. No imagination whatsoever. Could this be more boring? If Binns were commentating maybe...

I giggle. People don't glare at me this time because they're focusing on the huge horse-drawn carriage that lands with a loud crash. I can see a Gryffindor jump back on Sterope James's foot. I hope he crushes her toes. Stupid git.

Some boy in blue robes jumps out of the carriage and pulls down small steps. I wonder if he's the school's whipping boy while they're here. That would suck for him. People all around gasp as this huge gigantic woman steps out of the carriage. She has to be about the size of Hagrid. There's no way she can't be.

Dumbledore starts clapping for her and we follow suit. I think many of them are staring at the woman --Madame Maxime, Dumbledore says-- or the dozen or so students behind her. They're all nice looking. I can practically hear the older students sigh with relief. Losers. I hope the Beauxbatons students are boring as hell.

This is getting really boring. I could be taking a nap in my closet right now. Or working on one of Donovan's poems. He gave me an A for effort on my last one, entitled "Life Sucks, Get Over It." I though it deserved an O.

It takes me a moment to realize that everyone is staring at the lake. I stare at it too. A whirlpool forms somewhere in the middle and a ship emerges. Now how did they manage that? Muggles would be trying to figure it out for ages. Dumbledore greets this headmaster too. He looks too stupid to be a headmaster. He keeps twirling his stupid little goatee like he was really hot stuff. Hot as a snowman.

I take my time getting back into the Great Hall. I don't think I'm really up to this whole tournament. The crowds, the cheerfulness. I can't stand it. And you know everyone will be talking if I don't show up. I just want take a nap until this tournament is over. I slip into a seat by Kinkajou and try to pay attention to what Dumbledore is saying. It's really hard too. I can hear people whispering behind me. Probably filling the others in about me. Word gets around fast doesn't it?

"Hi!" a girl sits down next to me. "I'm Marie!" She has a really chirpy voice, like a bird. A really annoying one.

"Tacey," I mummer. I look down at my feet and notice her shoes. They're really nice ones for someone who had to travel across the English Channel. They are black with shiny sequins all over them forming stars.. They hurt my eyes just to look at them. "Nice shoes."

Marie smiles. "Oh thanks. I got them on sale at this really nice store in Paris. My mother didn't want me to get them because she said they clashed horribly with most of my clothes but I simply just had to have them. I think of them as my good luck charms. Do you have a good luck charm? You really should. They help me out. I wore them on the day when Madame was picking out student to come here and she chose me. Isn't that great! I've always wanted to come to England but we never had the time or the money but this tournament is a great opportunity for me. I've been working so hard on my English, so I can make a good impression. Isn't it good? Oh, I hope I'm chosen as champion. That would be so wonderful. Are you going to enter?"

She says all of this really fast. Like it's a race to speak. Kinkajou looks at me funny. I'm dazed. "N-no," I stutter. "I-I turn sixteen in June."

"Oh, well, that's too bad. I would say that maybe next time but you'll be out of school by then." Marie smiles at me apologetically. "Wish me luck though!"

I nod before turning my attention back to Dumbledore. I hope she doesn't get it. That would be embarrassing that would

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore says. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" He sits down and the gold plates are once again filled with food. There's a lot of foreign stuff that looks disgusting. I can't believe they actually eat this stuff in France. I grab a piece of meat, mashed potatoes, and a cookie. The perfect meal. I could live on that stuff alone. Marie tries to get me to eat some of her favorite foods, but I refuse. She gives up and goes back to her French cuisine.

Unfortunately, the meal had to end and I am left to listen to the boring official stuff concerning the tournament. Honestly, couldn't they allow those that don't give a damn about the stupid tournament leave? I could be doing some serious sleeping right about now.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty four hours to submit themselves. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their school..."

Oh. My. God. This is so BORING! Marie is just bouncing up and down in her little shoesthatherparentsdidntwanthertogetbutshegotthemanywayinparis in excitement. It's sad really. I hope she doesn't have to stay with us in the dormitories. If that's the case then you can just shoot me now.


End file.
